The Demon Bottle
by Radical Nike
Summary: COMPLETE. 5 of 5 parts. Rated PG13 for language. Response to InterNutter's fanfic challenge. What happens when some of the X-men's classmates try to catch the Bayville Demon?
1. Part One

Author's Note:

This fanfic is in response to a challenge the InterNutter has on her web page. (Go to http://cat.devil.com for details. I believe it's on her "miscellaneous" page. Check out her other stuff while you're at it, too. She's got a lot of neat stuff.) While this story may not what she had in mind, I hope she enjoys it.

Please review and give me _useful_ feedback. You don't flame me, I don't flame you. (And believe me, I can get _very_ creative...) This story is still open to massive re-writes. I'm having issues with the fact that it seems so _contrived..._

Standard disclaimer: I ignored weeding a perfectly overgrown garden today to work on this story. In other words, not only am I not making any money from this story, but I'm also probably going to catch a whole lot of crapola for ignoring my chores...

Radical Nike

Part One

Once upon a time, Bayville High was a normal small-town highschool. It had a football team to be reckoned with, a girl's soccer team to be feared, plus the parties to go with them. There were jocks and cheerleaders (and their admirers), as well as the "rest" of the school (namely, the brains, geeks, and misfits).

Once someone managed to hack into the school's intra-net and leave pictures of ill-repute where easily impressionable and imaginative teenagers could see them, but other than the occasional drag-race on one edge of town and the less-rare keg-parties at the other, Bayville was nice and quiet. They didn't even need to install metal-detectors at the front door.

Then, quite inexplicably, strange things began to happen.

At first, there were only little things, so small that few people ever noticed. There was a rash of practical jokes involving slime. There were cases of mistaken identity, where sometimes people were seen in two different places at the same time.

Odder things began to occur: furniture moving by itself, earth tremors, random explosions, more slime. The gym burned down quite spectacularly. The chemistry teacher apparently turned himself into a monster ala _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_.

Little things. Parents were actually starting to comment on them at the monthly PTA meetings.

There was a theory, of course.

The Bayville Demon did it.

Some scoffed at first, but then, slowly, people began to believe. No one ever saw him for more than an instant, or out of the corner of their eyes, but he _existed_. Actual descriptions varied, but everyone agreed that he was blue and had a tail. Sometimes he was seen in the boys' restrooms, other times he could be seen hanging off a windowsill. Every once in a while, a perceptive individual would walk pass an out-of-the-way corner and detect a whiff of brimstone. Sometimes more than a whiff.

No one actually saw the Demon when he made his mischief, but still, everyone _knew_ he was responsible.

Well, nearly everyone. Those who knew better weren't about to say anything, though.

"Hey, Kitty," Benny Torque hissed across the aisle one morning during homeroom. "Did ya hear about the latest Demon sighting?"

Kitty sighed and shook out her shoulders, which had tensed quite suddenly. "Arcade, like, you know that there's no such thing as 'demons'..."

"You simply lack imagination," the orange-haired hacker snorted. "Anyway, he was seen sneaking around the cafeteria yesterday afternoon. Shortly afterwards, every single chair was pulled out from under whoever was sitting on it in less than a minute. There was almost a riot, man, a _riot_." Arcade snorted, muffling his laughter at the mental image it created.

Kitty glared at him and turned back to her YM magazine. The bell would ring soon and she wanted to finish her article. Underneath her annoyance, however, she was thinking hard.

*_Jean?*_ Hopefully, the telepath would hear her thought. After a few moments, a slightly irritated voice responded in her mind.

*_What is it, Kitty? I'm_ trying _to_ study.*

*_Sorry. Have you, like, heard the latest "Demon" sighting? Someone saw Kurt_ au naturale _in the cafeteria yesterday right before Pietro yanked everybody's chairs out from under them.*_

There was a moment of "silence" and then the equivalent of a sigh from Jean. *_I'll let Kurt know, Kitty_.* Then her presence was gone.

Feeling she had done her duty, Kitty returned her attention to her magazine.

Kurt Wagner was carefully aiming a paperwad with a rubberband at the back of Mr. Wade's head when a concerned and somewhat reproachful voice interrupted his thoughts.

*_Someone saw you yesterday,_ Nightcrawler. _Quicksilver's little lunchtime prank is now being attributed to _you_, Herr Wagner.*_

"Ach," he sputtered as the paperwad flew wide and splatted against the board. The rest of the class snickered quietly. Mr. Wade didn't notice the paperwad, but he _did_ turn to glare at the giggling students. _Then_ he noticed the paperwad, but Kurt had already hidden the rubberband in his pocket.

*_Pietro must be annoyed that I'm stealing his glory yet again_,* he quipped silently. He pretended to be enthralled to be learning how to determine the slope of an angle and doodled aimlessly in the margin of his notebook.

*_Kurt, one day you're actually going to get caught by someone and none of us are going to be around to cover for you.*_

Wow, Jean actually sounded upset. *_No worries, fraulein. I'm a cautious little devil. Now please remove yourself from my head so that I actually have a prayer of_ passing _geometry.*_

*Kurt! This is serious.*

*So is Mr. Wade and I suspect he's noticed that my attention is divided.* Kurt felt Jean pull out just as Mr. Wade's hand come down on his shoulder.

"Mr. Wagner, since I have your unwavering attention, would you mind demonstrating the point-slope form for the rest of the class?"

Damn.

"While you're up there, you can also remove the spitwad from the board."

Busted.

Elsewhere in the school, a rather bizarre pair also heard the rumors. At lunch, the two sought an unoccupied corner of the cafeteria to converse.

The first, who called himself Sylvan (but nearly everyone else called Pat) tapped his black lips thoughtfully. "The Demon has certainly become more active, Rhave."

Rhave (Stephanie) nodded, her jewelry clanking softly. "You said that you came across a binding spell, Sylvan. Did you intend to catch the Demon with it?"

Sylvan smiled, his lipstick smudging his teeth purple. "Yup. Here." He shoved a book across the table at her.

"_The Art of Ceremonial Magic_?" Rhave read. "Man, this thing was published by _Barnes and Noble_..."

"It's a reprint, okay? The stuff in it is _old_, my friend. Good as gold."

Rhave stared at him doubtfully and flipped through the pages, glancing at diagrams and descriptions of the various demons of Hell. "What are we supposed to do?" She handed the book back to him.

Sylvan heard the skeptical tone. Honestly, Rhave wasn't impressed by anything unless it came out of a rotting book that looked like someone had spilled something noxious on.

"Just look at it!" He pushed the book back at her.

Rhave glared and examined it more carefully. Her nose crinkled in disgust. "Man, I am _not_ going to sacrifice a baby goat or do anything else in this book. It's _sick_." She looked rather green under her make-up.

"Hey, magic can be adapted, Rhave. You know that. We can use some of that sympathetic stuff to lure him in. We have those hairs, after all. Maybe some of that gypsy magic can be useful. We can catch him in a bottle or something."

Rhave hunched over. "Why are you set on catching this thing, anyway?"

"It'd be cool. A sorcerer's got to have a diabolical minion or two, right?" Sylvan's eyes flashed enthusiastically.

"And what would you do with it?"

"Have it do my homework, paint my house, inflict pain on my enemies. All sorts of things."

Somehow, the thought of a demon writing a paper on the social pressures that inspired feminism seemed out of place. The thought of scaring Duncan Matthews and his cronies spitless was more inspiring.

"Hey, y'all."

"Hi, Rogue."

"Hello, Rogue."

The white-streaked girl sank down next to them, munching on her fries.

Sylvan bit his tongue nervously. Rogue made him extremely anxious, but he attributed it to mundane hormones. She was an enigma; she refused to tell anyone her real name. Even the school computers just listed her as 'Rogue.'

She had a way of creeping people out without even trying. Once, when Sylvan had asked her about any past romances, she had laughed and said, _I've been told my kisses are to die for_.

By the nasty edge in her voice, Sylvan got the felling she wasn't exactly joking.

The time he had seen her practicing _taibo_ in the school's weight room had reinforced the opinion.

"What're ya talking about?" she asked, mildly thrown by the furtive looks in Rhave and Sylvan's eyes.

Rhave slurped at her soda. "Bayville Demon." She took a bite of her pizza. "Why aren't you sitting with the other Institute kids? Where's Risty?"

"Risty's not here today and I didn't want that German stomach over there stealing all mah fries," Rogue. She pointed at a rowdy table where a girl in a pink sweater was yelling at two boys. One of the boys, a black kid with peroxide-blonde hair, was trying to retrieve a bag of chips from a kid with blue hair.

"His name's Kurt, right?"

"Yup. You should see 'im at breakfast. He eats maybe three times as much as anyone else."

Rhave stood abruptly. She hated it when Sylvan began to drool over Miss Untouchable. "Hey, I got to go finish some homework before my next class. Talk to you later."

Rogue and Sylvan watched her go. "She's in a good mood," Rogue said sarcastically.

"Her? Never." _At least, not when you're around. _"Hey, what do you think about the Demon?"

"Huh?" Rogue stopped eating and looked at him in surprise. "Never really thought about it that much. I always thought someone made 'im up to cover for all the practical jokes that go on around here."

Maybe Rogue was more of a muggle (1) than he'd originally thought.

It was later that night when Rhave and Sylvan met in the latter's basement to plan how to catch the Bayville Demon.

"Okay, here is what we know. First, he seems to have favorite haunts. The ones he seems to favor are the last stall in eastern boy's restroom on the second floor, a group of hedges near the front gate, the chemical closet by the chem lab, and the boy's locker room in the gym. I was thinking that we should set up on one of those spots. He's usually seen between classes, so we won't have to sit and wait for him twenty-four-seven."

Rhave frowned. "You know there is no plausible reason for me to go into the boy's restroom or lockers, Sylvan."

"That's why I figured we'd stake out the chem closet. If we get caught in there, everyone would assume we'd been making out or something..." He ignored Rhave's strange look. "Plus, one more bottle in there with all the rest would go unnoticed."

"So we're going with the bottle thing?"

"Yeah. I found this great spell in one of those books on gypsy magic at the library." Rhave refrained from comment. "What you do is you take a bottle and write this phrase— Uh, give me a sec—" Sylvan pulled out a notebook with some odd script copied down in it. "'Monster who stands by this jar, go in and trouble me no more.'" He gestured to the squiggly marks.

"They really say that?"

"Well, it's an approximation. I figure we can add this _other_ line, 'You who stand within my sway, my every word you must obey.' It's from a compulsion spell. So we've got a way to hold him and a way to make him obey us."

He reached behind him, his chain bracelets rattling. "I got this jar to trap him in." It was a simple specimen jar, somewhat large, but it wouldn't stand out in the chem lab. "All we really have to do is put the demon's hair inside it and inscribe the words on the outside."

"Tell me again where you got that hair from?"

"I found it on the floor in the cafeteria yesterday, all right? He must shed or something. All I had to do was pick it up." He sounded proud of himself.

"You seem to have this all figured out, Sylvan. Why do you need _my_ help?" Rhave asked caustically.

Sylvan went blank for a second. "Uh, well, I figured it would be—"

"—safer?" she inserted.

_Well, that wasn't what I was going to say, but that'll work..._ "Y-yeah."

She grunted. "Well, as long as I get some time using him, I'm all for it."

At the Xavier Institute, the "Bayville Demon" was in the process of catching Hell.

"Mind explainin' the situation, elf?" Logan growled. He had a stony expression on his face that would cause most people to pee their pants. Several girls, including a fuming werewolf, glared, which didn't help the situation any.

Kurt, his fuzzy blue tail twisting behind nervously, grinned charmingly. "I don't know what situation you're talking about, Herr Logan."

"The blue hair in the girl's bathroom says otherwise, fuzzball..."

Kurt broke down. "I wasn't _doing_ anything. It was a misfire. I'm an utter gentleman—everyone knows that..." He trailed off when he noted the irate looks his female housemates were giving him. "Really! I was supposed to land on the balcony at the end of the hall!"

Of course, the accidental glimpse he had gotten of Rahne in the shower _had_ been an unexpected bonus. Pity that her mutation made her nose as keen as Logan's, otherwise he may have gotten away with none the wiser...

"An accident, eh? Maybe we ought to work on preventing 'accidents.' Meet me in the Danger Room in twenty minutes, elf. We're gonna work on that control of yours." With that, Logan stalked away, leaving a self-righteous Nightcrawler to face the fury of Rahne Sinclair, who clothes were clinging to her damp skin in a rather attractive way. _Oh,_ ja, _you really_ are _a gentleman, Kurt Wagner_, he scolded himself.

Oh, course, Hell hath no fury like that of a Scottish werewolf whose modesty has been compromised.

"Ye better get yerself tae the Danger Room before I decide to mete out mah own punishment, shaggy," she warned ominously as she transformed into her lupine form.

Kurt fled on all fours, ignoring the laughter of the other girls standing in the hall as Rahne nipped at his heels.

Kitty watched Wolfsbane chase Kurt down the hall, feeling rather sorry for the fuzzy blue mutant.

"He can't help makin' waves, can he?"

Kitty looked at her roommate. "Really, Rogue, I think he, like, thrives on the attention. As long as we're not, like, trying to exorcise him, he seems to be totally cool with it."

Rogue popped up an eyebrow. "What about the stuff at school? Ya know the Brotherhood's mayhem has been blamed on Kurt more often lately. What if they pull a stunt that really makes people afraid or hurts them? If Kurt gets found out, folks might try to _really_ get after him."

_I know. I'm worried about him too, Rogue. _"He's been taking care of himself for, like, ever, you know? His entire mutation makes him, what, the ultimate escape artist?"

Rogue scowled. "Be serious, Pryde."

"I _am_ serious. He's so paranoid about people finding out what he really looks like, you know? And if someone does see him, Jean or the Professor make them forget about it anyway." Kitty turned away and headed towards the den.

_I don't want to think about what would happen if he got caught._

In the Danger Room, Nightcrawler watched as Wolverine called up a simulation. There were twelve platforms arranged at random levels throughout the room. They all had marks on them, like a helicopter landing pad. There were similar markings at odd places on the walls and floor as well. The symbols cycled through a series of green, yellow, and red, like a traffic signal.

"'kay, elf. This is simple." Wolverine pointed out the platforms. "For the next five minutes, you're gonna 'port or jump from one landing area to another while dodging me. We'll both be dodging missiles. The catch is that you can only land on one of the marked areas and you can only do it while the platform is yellow or green. All the platforms have different timing, but they always go green-yellow-red. If I catch you, one of the missiles hits you, or you land on one of the landing pads while it's red, we start over. We're gonna do this until you get it perfect." His brown eyes mocked Nightcrawler from under his hood. "Got it?"

"Oh, _ja_." _I'm doomed._

"Pick a platform." Nightcrawler 'ported in a cloud of sulfurous smoke. "Start 'er up, Beast!" Wolverine called to the control room.

The Danger Room came to life as Nightcrawler appeared on the opposite side of the room, quickly jumping to an adjacent platform as three mini-cannonballs came hurling through the space. He turned to see Wolverine flying towards him, knocking away cannonballs with his claws as he hurtled through the air.

Kurt teleported to a green platform and then immediately teleported again as it turned yellow. This went on for another minute-and-a-half before a missile knocked him off one of the targets.

The sim ended as he rolled neatly on the floor. Wolverine glared at him. "Try again."

This time he only lasted forty-five seconds before he landed on a red platform.

"Again."

_Gott_, this was going to be a _long_ night...

-------

Author's Note:

(1) A "muggle" is a non-magical person. Anyone who has read any of the _Harry Potter _books will catch the reference immediately.


	2. Part Two

Author's Note:

This fanfic is in response to a challenge the InterNutter has on her web page. (Go to http://cat.devil.com for details. I believe it's on her "miscellaneous" page. Check out her other stuff while you're at it, too. She's got a lot of neat stuff.) While this story may not what she had in mind, I hope she enjoys it.

Please review and give me _useful_ feedback. You don't flame me, I don't flame you. (And believe me, I can get _very_ creative...) This story is still open to massive re-writes. I'm having issues with the fact that it seems so _contrived..._

Standard disclaimer: I don't own the X-men and I'm not making a dime (or even a nickel) off this story.

Radical Nike

Part Two

The next morning saw a droopy elf at the breakfast table. He had been excused from the morning training sessions so that he could recuperate.

He still managed to pack away half his body weight in food, however.

Scott Summers and Evan Daniels watched in awe as Kurt reached for his ninth helping of hash browns.

"K-man, I can't remember that last time I saw you pig out this bad," Evan said around a mouthful of bacon.

Kurt didn't answer. He was never very talkative when he was actually eating.

"How long did Logan work you last night, Kurt?" Scott asked, earning a pained sideways glance from the teleporter, who swallowed audibly.

"Five hours." He resumed eating.

Evan whistled. "Did he let you have a break or anything?"

"Does he ever?" Scott responded for him. "Hey, Kurt, you may want to take some of that to go. We have to leave in ten minutes if we're going to make it to school on time."

Kurt paused. "I'll just 'port. That way I have at least another thirty minutes, _ja_?"

Scott frowned. "You know you're not supposed to do that. What if someone sees you? It seems like everyone at school is high on the 'Bayville Demon' lately."

"I'll be okay. I've got a couple spots that are out of the way. If it helps, I'll won't even 'port directly to school. Happy? Now excuse me, but I'm still _starving_. Herr Logan wore out my reserves last night."

He returned to his gorging.

"I didn't know Kurt _had_ reserves, man," Evan mumbled as he stood up, ignoring his napkin and wiping his hands on his shorts instead.

Scott shook his head. "Just be careful, Kurt. None of us want to have to save your blue butt, you know."

At school, Sylvan was carefully tracing a series of circles and other shapes on the floor of the chemical closet with salt water, murmuring under his breath. He didn't want to hurry and botch the job, but he didn't want one of the teachers to catch him either. It had been a simple matter to pick the lock and he knew that Rhave was keeping watch outside. He had pilfered the chemicals to make a smoke bomb just in case he was caught. A prank was more believable than sorcery. 

The circle was laid down and he carefully dripped some of his own blood (courtesy of his Swiss Army knife) discreetly on the floor where it wouldn't be noticed. The spell didn't call for it, but he figured that it would help. After putting on a band-aid, he knelt and placed his jar under the bottom shelf where it was hidden by the shadows, but still within the circle's range. On the outside of the jar, he had copied the gypsy letters. A few blue hairs lay in the bottom.

If this worked right, the jar would take the most fitting shape to hold the demon, which was how he and Rhave would know if the spell worked right.

Rhave knocked on the door and hissed, "First bell just rang. Hurry up!"

Sylvan straightened up and carefully exited. "I just finished." He locked the door and shut it.

"Now what?" Rhave asked as they casually walked away.

"Now we just check back periodically to see if the jar changes shape. When it changes, we'll know it worked." He rubbed his hands gleefully, showing purple-stained teeth.

"Brill, just _brill._" Rhave rolled her eyes.

Further down the hall, Kitty Pryde was having a conniption.

"EWWWW! Someone, like, slimed my locker..." she squealed. She shook her hand in the air in a vain effort to get rid of the gross substance. Nearby, she could hear Pietro Maximov and Todd Tolansky sniggering.

"Youreallyshouldcleanyourlockeroutonceinawhile,X-geek," Pietro taunted, appearing next to Kitty between blinks. "Justbecauseyoucanmakelikeaghostdoesn'tmeanyoushouldleaveectoplasmallovertheplace." He smirked and vanished in blur. Todd kept grinning at her.

"Go _away_, Todd. I know you did it, you creepo."

"It's nice to be appreciated, yo. I do good work. Too bad that freakazoid blue-boy is getting all the credit." Todd's voice and posture gave little doubt that he didn't mind at all. "Later, foo." He slammed his hand against the locker next to hers, making Kitty flinch, hopping off to his homeroom.

Kitty carefully shut her locker door and headed towards her homeroom. Fortunately, her teacher was already present.

"Ms. Lewis, could I have a hall pass? Someone, like, trashed my locker and I really need to clean it up."

Ms. Lewis absently pulled out a slip and signed it. "If it takes longer, let me know before homeroom ends, Kitty."

"Thanks!"

Kurt was hurrying past when she stepped back out into the hall. It was hard for her miss him in a crowd, even when he was wearing his hologram. Like now. "Kurt!"

No matter where he was going, Kurt always had time to stop and talk to Kitty. Tardiness was never an issue when Katzchen was involved. "_Ja_?"

"You have homeroom with Mr. Griefe, right? The new chemistry teacher?"

"Um, _ja_." What in the world?

"Toad slimed my locker and I need to, like, sanitize it. Mr. Griefe has a key to the chemical closet and, like, I was wondering if you could see if he'd open it for me so that I could get something to clean my locker with." She was holding her left hand away from her body like it was diseased.

"Sure, Katzchen. Uh, what's wrong with your hand?"

"Like, Toad secretions." She shuddered. "I'm going to run to the restroom to grab some towels and get this gunk off of me. I'll be, like, back in a few minutes."

Kitty rushed away. Kurt promised to make reparations upon the green one at a near date and made it to homeroom just in time to beat the bell.

He explained the situation to a sympathetic Mr. Griefe, who handed him a hall pass along with a set of keys.

"Go ahead and help her out. She'll be done that much faster with another set of hands to assist," he smiled good-naturedly.

"Thanks, Herr Griefe!" Kurt chirped and bounced out the door, not even dropping his books off at his desk.

Rogue, who was sitting inside the classroom, shook her head and flipped the page of her novel and murmured "What a spazz."

Kurt approached the chemical closet, automatically scanning the area.

_Relax. You're here on legitimate business today. There is no need to avoid attention._

Kurt frequently used the closet as a safe spot to teleport to in times of need. It smelled so strongly in there that no one would notice the smell of sulfur unless he had been in there recently.

Turning the key in the door, he stepped in to find the cleaning supplies. The door shut behind him immediately.

His eyes were immediately drawn to a small, shadowed corner under one of the shelves.

Was that a— Wait-a-minute...Who would leave a _cookie jar_ in the _chemical closet_?

It was probably full of rat poison or something. He shuddered at the thought of rats crawling around the basement of the school. Knowing this school, they were probably as strange looking as _he_ was. (1)

Nevertheless, his curiosity would not be satisfied until he had had at least a tiny peek. He could almost feel like he was impelled to do so, even.

Kurt crouched down and dropped his backpack. He carefully picked the cookie jar up, lifting the lid.

He noticed the odd script on the outside a split-second before he felt his body implode. 

The cookie jar hovered in mid-air for a moment, the lid sealing it shut. Then it gently flew back down to its hiding spot beneath the lowest shelf.

His hall pass fluttered to floor like a clumsy feather, on top of a tiny drop of drying blood.

-------

Author's Note:

(1) Sorry, InterNutter, but I just _couldn't_ resist...


	3. Part Three

Author's Note:

This fanfic is in response to a challenge the InterNutter has on her web page. (Go to http://cat.devil.com for details. I believe it's on her "miscellaneous" page. Check out her other stuff while you're at it, too. She's got a lot of neat stuff.) While this story may not what she had in mind, I hope she enjoys it.

Please review and give me _useful_ feedback. You don't flame me, I don't flame you. (And believe me, I can get _very_ creative...) This story is still open to massive re-writes. I'm having issues with the fact that it seems so _contrived..._

Standard disclaimer: I don't own the X-men and I'm not making a dime (or even a nickel) off this story.

Radical Nike

Part Three

Kitty returned to her locker, a roll of towels she had pilfered from the restroom tucked under one arm. Even though she had removed all traces of Toad's slime from her hand, she kept rubbing it unconsciously against her capris.

"Toad, it should, like, be against all natural laws for a human being to be so horribly disgust-o-rama," she muttered to herself as she made her way back to her locker. _Wonder where Mr. Griefe is? Oh, well, I'm sure he'll be along in a minute or two..._

Mr. Griefe, however, never appeared, and Toad's slime was drying inside her locker and _really _beginning to stink.

_There's, like, no way I'll get this clean before homeroom's over._ She hurried into her classroom, where a distracted Ms. Lewis wordlessly gave her another hall pass.

_Now, to just zip over to Griefe's classroom..._

All the sophomores stared at her while she spoke to the instructor. Kurt was nowhere to be seen. "Um, Mr. Griefe, did Kurt Wagner come in?"

The chemistry teacher's inquisitive look turned into a frown. "I sent him to the chemical closet to fetch some cleaning supplies. He was to help you with your, ah, locker problem."

Weird. "He never showed up. Maybe he, um, ran into some trouble?"

At the back of the room, Rogue looked up. Kitty met her eye and Rogue shrugged.

"Hmm. Come with me, Kitty. We'll find out." He stood and eyed the students watching them. "I trust you can all behave properly until I get back..." he said blandly before following Kitty out the door. The class burst into whispers as the door shut.

Mr. Griefe made small talk as they walked down the hall. "So, what exactly happened to your locker? Kurt said someone got into it and made a mess."

"Yeah, something like that," Kitty responded, trying to figure out why Kurt would just ditch like that. Maybe his hologram malfunctioned...

"Do you have any idea who it may have been?"

"Uh, kinda, but I don't have, like, any proof." _Not unless you make him spit at you, anyhow._

They approached the outside of the closet. Mr. Griefe tentatively turned the knob, which still had the keys in it. "Well, we know he unlocked the door..."

Kurt's bag was sitting in the middle of the floor, but Kurt was nowhere to be seen. Mr. Griefe stepped inside, pausing when a piece of paper crinkled under his foot.

It was Kurt's hall pass. There was a speck of red on it.

"K-Kurt?" Kitty whispered, feeling her blood pressure surge.

Mr. Griefe dropped the pass like it had bit him. "Kitty, stay here. Make sure no else disturbs anything."

"Um, sure thing."

After Mr. Griefe hurried away, Kitty bent over and examined the shelves. There were the cleaning supplies, neatly tucked away in the corner where they always were, apparently untouched. She sidestepped the bag and peered around. There didn't look like there had been a struggle or anything. It didn't smell like Kurt had 'ported anywhere, either, though most of the students at the Institute knew this was one of Kurt's semi-permanent landing points.

She couldn't see any clues besides his bag and the bloody piece of paper, so she stepped out into the hall to wait for Mr. Griefe to return.

Fighting growing panic, Kitty yelled *_JEAN!*_ as loud as her mental voice could.

Jean Grey was gathering up her belongings to depart for her first class when Kitty suddenly cried her name, nearly staggering her over.

"You okay, babe?" Duncan asked. He eyed her and she caught his surface thoughts. _Hope she's not coming down sick, that'd suck. Wouldn't be cool to ask her out when she's not feeling well..._ There was, as always, an unsubtle undertone of lust to his thoughts.

_Boys—it's all hormonal..._ "I'll be okay, Duncan. All the blood rushed to my head when I bent over and it threw me off-balance for a moment." *_Kitty, I hear you. Just give me a moment.*_ Kitty's yelling stopped abruptly. She was panicked and trying to keep her cool.

"Oh, good. Want me to walk you to class?"

"That's okay. I have class with Scott next period and I usually walk with him." She ignored the ugly look that crossed his face at the mention of his rival's name. *_Calm down, Kitty.*_

"Yeah, sure." Jean heard him complain subconsciously as he stalked away: _Jeez, I wish that she'd make up her goddamned _mind...

Wincing inwardly, Jean waved at Scott, who frowned at the expression on her face. She tapped herself between the eyes and she saw his eyebrows knot up underneath his red sunglasses. Wordlessly, he picked up her books and walked with her to the door, making sure she didn't run into anything while she concentrated.

*_Kitty, what's wrong?*_

*_Like, Kurt's disappeared,*_ Kitty babbled. *_Toad slimed my locker this morning and Kurt, like, walked by, so I asked him to have Mr. Griefe unlock the cleaning supplies for me, but Kurt never returned and Mr. Griefe and I went to check on him and he's like _gone_ and his bag is lying-on-the-closet-floor-and-his-hall-pass-hassomeBLOODONIT—*_

*Calm down, Kitty,* Jean said soothingly. She could sense Kitty steadying herself. *_Are you sure he didn't teleport?*_

*Doesn't smell like he did, but the chem closet, like, stinks anyway. Mr. Griefe went somewhere, I think to tell the office or something, but he told me not to mess with anything. Do you think he'll, like, call the cops?*

*Probably not right away,* Jean replied. Scott was watching her in concern. "Let's walk by the storage closet next to the chemistry lab, Scott."

"Why?"

"Kurt's disappeared and that's the last place he was known to be. Kitty's frantic."

*_Kitty, act hysterical so that Scott and I have an excuse to stop and see what's going on.*_

*No prob, Jean, 'cause I'm, like, halfway there already.*

Jean scanned for Kurt, but—"I can't detect Kurt at all, Scott." Hold on. "Actually, I can, but it's like he's behind soundproof glass." It was like he squeezed tight and about to erupt.

"Middleverse?" he inquired, referring to the pocket dimension created by Forge that Kurt had once been entrapped in.

"No, it's not quite the same. He was much further away, that time. I get the impression that he's very close by this time. He has a here-not-here quality and he's cramped up, like he's under pressure. He's _not_ happy, Scott."

"Man, he sure manages to get himself into trouble..."

__

When the pair arrived at the closet, Kitty was babbling to Mr. Griefe and Principal Kelly.

"I mean, it isn't like him to just, you know, leave me hanging like that. He wouldn't leave his books lying around, I _know_ he wouldn't leave his books lying around, he's a _total_ neat-freak—"

Principal Kelly looked like he wanted to fall through the floor. Kitty looked like she actually would.

"Hey, Kitty, is something wrong?" Jean asked with concern.

Kitty spun around and grabbed onto Scott like he was her only hope for eternal salvation. "Kurt's disappeared and there's blood and his stuff's all over the floor and—"

"Katherine, please calm down," Principal Kelly placated while Scott tried to ease Kitty's death-grip. "There's no need to get panicked just yet."

"Let loose a little, Kitty. My blood needs to circulate—"

"Ohmy_God_, there's blood on his freakin' _HALL PASS—_"

"Calm _down_, Kitty," Jean said sternly, giving Kitty an empathic nudge_. *Don't go overboard.*_

Kitty squeaked and stopped babbling, letting go of Scott, who companionably laid an arm over her shoulders. "Okay, short stuff, what's this about Kurt disappearing?"

Jean groaned and prepared to hear the story all over again. _The things we do to appear normal._

Rogue knew something was up when Mr. Griefe didn't return right away, but there wasn't anything she could do but go to class. She glanced down the hall and saw a small crowd gathering at the other end, but she had no business going there because her destination was in the opposite direction.

Well, if it was anything, someone would let her know.

She walked into her English class and sat down near Rhave, who kept glancing at the clock. "I've had days like that, too."

Rhave started and looked at her blankly for a moment. "Sorry, Rogue. My mind was somewhere else. Days like what?"

"Y'know, the kind that you can't wait ta get the Hell outta school 'cause you have other things you'd rather do," she snorted. "I'd _love_ ta know what's going on down the hall, right now."

Rhave brightened at the prospect of gossip. "Was there a fight?"

"Dunno, but everyone seems pretty interested in whatever happened." She thought about Kurt's errand. "Might have somethin' ta do with the storage closet." She slumped in her seat and pulled on her gloves to make sure they were on snugly. "One of the students in my homeroom went down there for some cleaning supplies during homeroom and never came back." She gave the gothic-wannabe a sly glance. "Maybe the Bayville Demon got 'im."

Rhave became very still and held her breath, then suddenly relaxed.

It was a pity Rogue didn't have telepathy at that moment.

Much later, the young X-men were gathered at a table in the cafeteria.

"So, do you have any other clues, Jean?" Kitty asked.

"No. I asked the Professor to look with Cerebro, but so far he hasn't come up with anymore than I have." Jean was sitting with her head cradled on her arms on the table.

"What about the closet?" Evan asked, waving his milk carton with his hand. "We should check it out. Maybe have Logan sniff around in there."

"I'm not sure what good he could do, Evan," Scott said. "A lot of people have been in and out of that room today. The principal called the police. It's taped off."

Evan pounded his fist on the table. "Man, I wish the cops hadn't gotten involved," he groaned. "How can we look for clues with them around?"

Rogue cleared her throat. "Maybe Jean or the Professor could, you know, distract them or somethin' while Kitty sneaks inside to take another look."

"Like, I already did that. We'd need, like, Logan's nose—"

"Or mine, Kitty," said a voice behind them. They all turned to see several of the junior X-men: Rahne Sinclair, flanked by Sam Guthrie and Jubilation Lee. "Mah nose is as sharp as Logan's, if nae sharper. 'Twould better ta check it out as soon as possible, too, 'fore the scents get more muddled."

"That sounds like a plan," Scott agreed. "Jean, do you think you can get everyone to come out of that closet and stay out long enough for Shadowcat and Wolfsbane to take a look?"

"Sure thing, _Cyclops,_" Jean said dryly. "We're _not_ in uniform, you know, Scott."

"It's a mindset I have—"

"No kidding, Mr. Military."

Rhave carefully dropped the smoke bomb into the trashcan in chemistry lab. Sylvan needed the distraction in order to get into the storage room undetected to retrieve the jar. It was a stupid coincidence that the dumbass had grabbed the stuff for the bomb this morning. Who would've thought it would be needed?

She was _really_ glad Bayville Highschool didn't have cameras or anything installed.

Smoke began to pour out of the container and into the room. Rhave ducked out into the hall and walked quickly away. A few moments later, a student yelled, "Hey, fire!"

The hallway quickly became a jumble of bodies and someone pulled the fire alarm.

Outside, Kitty, Rahne, and Jean all paused when the fire alarm went off. "Well, that makes things easier," Jean said in relief. "I can just send the officers standing around to help evacuate the school." She concentrated for a moment. "They didn't even really need the encouragement."

"Better be quick about this, Jean," Rahne murmured, transforming from girl to wolf to girl again. "I smell a lot o' smoke."

Sure enough, there was a thick black cloud coming out of two windows.

Kitty studied the wall. "Let's go. I think the closet's a little bit further down..."

Sylvan crouched in the broom closet, praying that the cops hovering outside the chemical closet would move away when Rhave set off the alarm. He needed to remove the jar from the room so that the cops wouldn't confiscate it. He could set the spell up again some other time. Why did some kid have to go missing just as he was about to snag his own personal bogeyman?

He nearly screamed with relief when the siren started wailing and the two police officers hurried away.

"Thank you," he breathed. In the press of the crowd, it was easy to duck into the storage room.

A quick glance under the shelf—

A _cookie_ jar? Had the demon had already been caught? The vessel changed to reflect the nature of the demon it held. What the _Hell_ kind of demon would—

He didn't wait to finish the thought, because a disembodied hand pushed its way through the wall. _"Holy fucking shit!"_

He turned tail and ran, hugging the cookie jar to his chest.

Shadowcat and Wolfsbane phased through the wall just in time to see someone run through the door. The wolf-girl immediately took off after the escapee, barking frantically.

Kitty followed and was immediately caught in the flow of students evacuating the building. Crud_. *Jean! Change of plans.*_

*What happened?*

*Ask Wolfsbane. We phased into the room and caught someone on their way out. She ran after whoever it was. I'm, like, caught in the exodus.*

On it. Jean started to walk towards the soccer field. *_Rahne, what hap—*_

*Lordy, Jean, can it wait?!* Rahne turned a corner and finally got a clear view of the person she was chasing. *_Well, he's mighty distinctive lookin', what w' all that make-up on. Ye know this pansy, Jean?*_

Jean got an image of a pale boy with skanky black hair, black lipstick, a long black trenchcoat, and clutching something close to his chest.

__

*Patrick Rumsfield. We'll follow him later. Change back and head for the field like everyone else.*

*Roger tha', Jean.*

Jean made sure that no one noticed Rahne as she reverted back to her human form.


	4. Part Four

Author's Note:

This fanfic is in response to a challenge the InterNutter has on her web page. (Go to http://cat.devil.com for details. I believe it's on her "miscellaneous" page. Check out her other stuff while you're at it, too. She's got a lot of neat stuff.) While this story may not what she had in mind, I hope she enjoys it.

Please review and give me _useful_ feedback. You don't flame me, I don't flame you. (And believe me, I can get _very_ creative...) This story is still open to massive re-writes. I'm having issues with the fact that it seems so _contrived..._

Standard disclaimer: I don't own the X-men and I'm not making a dime (or even a nickel) off this story.

Radical Nike

Part Four

Kurt was reminded of when he was eleven and he had gotten himself wedged inside a hollow tree. He had been hiding from an angry farmer.

He had been completely innocent of any wrongdoing, of course. He had just had the bad luck of passing by when the wind had blown his hat off. The farmer had apparently not seen him performing at the circus the day before and assumed the worst. He had taken after the boy with nothing but the shovel he'd been carrying, yelling "Demon!" as loudly as he could. Kurt was so badly startled he had just run like mad.

Kurt's family had eventually tracked him down. He could almost remember the _relief _he had felt when Papa's ax had carefully split the trunk and he could _breathe_ again.

He hadn't known how to teleport back then.

_Why is it that when I'm being good that I get into the worst trouble?_

The oddest thing about his current predicament was that he couldn't really _feel_ his body. It was _there_, but he couldn't make it _do_ anything.

At least when he was caught inside the tree, he could wiggle his fingers and toes.

He had already given up trying to teleport.

_Looks like you're good and caught._

He tried to remember what the words on the outside of the jar were.

_By the totem held within, thou are trapped inside. The words of the one who bears this token is thy law._

Romany sorcery. Nasty stuff. Someone had put that jar there, hoping he would pick it up. That someone knew his habits.

Oh, well. As soon as he got out of this mess, he'd simply change all his hiding spots.

Easy to say.

Kurt tried moving again, but no luck.

Damn.

Sylvan looked behind himself. No wolf, just other students. Maybe he had imagined the wolf. The ghostly hand, too.

Some sorcerer.

Reality asserted itself, as did teenage pride. He'd look awfully silly carrying a cookie jar to the soccer field, especially if he was trying to blend in. He slowed down and carefully stowed it under the bleachers. He'd collect it later.

He didn't notice the figures lurking in the shadows further down.

A trio of mutants watched the goth turn and walk away casually.

Pietro, of course, reached the thing first. "Man, I don't get it." He _could_ talk slow when he wanted to. "It's just a stupid cookie jar." He picked it up and turned it at different angles, as if it would make him understand it better.

"So what's inside?" Todd asked sarcastically.

"Maybe it's his stash of weed or something and he didn't want to get caught with it inside the school," Tabitha Smith said brightly, snapping her gum loudly.

"Yeah, with everyone on the field, nobody could prove it belonged to anybody, yo?" Toad chortled.

Pietro scowled. "Like the buzz even lasts long enough."

"Speak for yourself, Silver." Tabitha pulled the lid off. "It's ours now. Besides, it's empty anywa-AY—"

Sulfurous smoke poured out and Pietro dropped the jar.

The Brotherhood scattered.

The smoke coalesced into the familiar form of Nightcrawler, who immediately collapsed to ground and began rubbing his limbs. His hologram flickered for a moment, then died completely.

He sighed at the sight of his blue hands and stretched. "Ach, that's so much better..." he trailed off when he saw his audience. "_Vas?_ Did _you_ do this to me?"

The mutants stared. "Um, Blue, how'd you get stuffed into a jar?" Tabitha asked weakly.

"Shut up, yo! He didn't know it wasn't us!" Todd yelled.

Nightcrawler grinned. "That's okay. I seriously doubt any of you have the intelligence necessary to pull this little trick off, anyway." He eyed the fallen cookie jar and bent to pick it up.

Light flared from the cookie jar and visible needles of light stabbed through Nightcrawler's hands.

Needless to say, but he let go of it in a hurry.

The Brotherhood mutants gathered around him while he rubbed his hands, panting.

Pietro was eyeing the jar with renewed interest. Grinning, he retrieved it from the ground. "Icantouchitjustfine. Iwonderwhathappenswhenyouputthelidbackon—" He made like he was going to replace the lid.

Nightcrawler's eyes popped open and he moved to stop him.

"Justkidding." Pietro idly spun the jar like a basketball. "Justrelax,furball."

To everyone's astonishment, Nightcrawler visibly un-tensed and stood at ease.

He was still glaring at Pietro, whose rapid mind came to a conclusion.

"You have to do what I say, don't you? Answer."

"_Ja_."

"Why?" Oh, this-was-waytoomuchfun!

"Some idiot put a spell on that jar to trap me inside. I have to do whatever the person holding it tells me to. If you shut it, I'll go back in."

He never stopped glaring.

"Smile."

Nightcrawler grinned, but his eyes were furious.

"Hopupanddown."

Nightcrawler began to hop up and down, still grinning.

"Whenyouhop,doathree-hundred-sixtydegreeturn."

Nightcrawler began to spin in mid-air, still grinning, but they could see it really, really _hurt._

"Okay,youcanstopallthatnow."

Nightcrawler fell on his face and growled.

Pietro turned to his astonished accomplices.

"Youhave_GOT_totrythis."

Jean started and glanced towards the bleachers. "Kurt—?" She began to work her way through the crowd. *_Kurt? Where are you?*_

A moment passed before he responded. *_Bleachers. Get me _away_ from these jerks, please!*_

There, she could see some rather familiar people underneath. *_What's the Brotherhood doing to you?*_

*Right now, taking turns bossing me around. Jean, they have a cookie jar. You need _to get it away from them. My life may depend on it. My pride is already completely destroyed.*_

*Kurt, what's going on?*

*JUST DO IT.*

Jean winced. *_Scott, Kitty, Evan, Rogue. I've found Kurt. He's under the bleachers with the Brotherhood.*_

She hurried under the bleachers, making sure no one paid any attention to what was going on. **_The fire is much more interesting,**_ she projected. **_Maybe someone's trapped inside the school. Watch for the rescue team.**_

She crept up towards the Brotherhood. Toad looked in her direction. **_I'm not here, there's absolutely nothing but litter in this direction.**_ Toad started picking at his ear with his pinky, ignoring her, when he suddenly started to laugh hysterically, pointing at something.

She drew closer and saw Nightcrawler running in a circle, chasing his own tail. He was chanting something in a language she didn't understand, but from his state of mind, it couldn't be too flattering.

*_Scott, everybody, don't draw attention to me. I'm going to try and steal that jar that Boom-boom is holding. Focus on Nightcrawler. As soon as I have the jar, we need to get it as far away from them as possible.*_

Scott sent an affirmative, though she knew he was as curious about the jar as she was.

"Maximov, what have you done to Kurt?" Scott appeared in the half-light beneath the bleachers, the shadows falling over him in stark lines.

Quicksilver laughed. "Wouldn'tyoulovetoknow,One-eye."

"He works for us now, foo. Check it out!" Toad gloated.

Boom-boom, who was currently holding the jar, smirked and casually said "Hey, Blue, grab Cyclops and drop him in the pool, would ya?"

Jean watched in shock as Kurt stopped chasing his tail and jumped onto Scott.

_Bamf. _

"What the Hell?" Rogue and Evan appeared simultaneously at opposite sides of the bleachers. "All right, I don't know what ya did ta Nightcrawler, but it's not gonna stop me from poundin' ya inta the ground, ya losers!"

Evan simply shot a round of spikes at them.

Jean concentrated on making the fire extremely interesting. *_Kitty, you're going to have to get that jar. I'm too busy with damage control.*_

Trust Kurt to tell them to pick a fight with the Brotherhood while the entire school was less than twenty feet away.

*_PROFESSOR!*_

Scott and Kurt re-appeared over the school's swimming pool and landed with a _splash_.

Kurt immediately grabbed him again and 'ported them to the deck.

"Sorry, _mein Freund_. As long as they got that cursed _jar_, I have to obey them." Kurt shook his arms, spraying water all over. He looked as pleased as a wet cat.

"The jar that Jean mentioned."

"Ja."

"How did that happen?"

"Do you believe in sorcery, Scott?"

"Uh, not really."

"Well, as of today, you do," Kurt growled. "If I disappear, by the way, don't be alarmed. That just means that someone put the lid back on the jar."

"Oh-_kay_." Kurt definitely became stranger the longer you knew him. "Can we discuss this on the way back to the field?"

"I am _not _going back there, man." He squeezed some water out of his shirt. "Maybe Tabitha will forget all about me and that jar if she doesn't see me. I do not want to drop any more of you into the pool—or anywhere else, for that matter."

Scott saw the look on his face and decided not to argue. He thought furiously for a moment. "Return to the mansion. Get a new holowatch. Then 'port yourself back into the school. Everyone thinks that you were abducted this morning and the police were called. We need to give them something to work with..."

Kurt twitched. The last thing he wanted was the police to see him and think he really _was_ a legitimate demon...

Scott didn't notice. "Find yourself somewhere extremely out of the way that someone can conceivably be kept locked inside of."

_Rats in the basement_, Kurt reminded himself thoughtfully. "Then what?"

"Start yelling and screaming for all you're worth. Oh, give me your wallet."

Kurt handed it over, and watched as the older boy cleaned out his cash and credit cards. "Throw this away where someone can find it, too." With that, Scott turned and began to run back to the soccer field, his jeans plastered to his legs.

Kurt stared after him and raised his white eyes to the heavens. _Dear Gott, not only am I a genie, I'm a mugging victim. This is turning into a bizarre, bizarre day, mein Freund... I guess I get to figure out a reason to explain why I'm sopping wet, too..._

*_Jean, don't let anyone put the lid back on that jar! Kurt will be trapped inside again!*_

"Geez, Scott, as if I didn't have enough to do..." Fortunately, the Professor had been able to help divert the crowd's attention.

Neither of them could keep it up much longer.

Nearby, Kitty crouched, waiting her chance to seize the jar. Boom-boom was still hanging onto it like her life depended on it.

Evan and Rogue were trying to pin down Quicksilver.

Well, time for a practical test of your abilities, Shadowcat... Kitty lunged forward, charging at Boom-boom as fast as her feet could carry her.

Boom-boom saw her and threw a time bomb at her, but she phased and didn't even feel the heat. Reaching the blonde mutant, Kitty grabbed the open jar.

Easy as taking a football from an elf.

She didn't bother to stop running. She could hear Boom-boom cursing and swearing behind her. Kitty practically flew into the parking lot, ducking for cover among the cars. She whispered apologies to the owner's of the batteries and radios that she could feel shorting out as she passed through them.

Kitty couldn't hear Boom-boom chasing her anymore, but she phased herself into a mini-van to hide, just in case.

She looked at the object in her hands.

"A cookie jar?"

"Goddamnit, you little _cunt._" The bimbo had escaped. There was _no_ way that she was going to break into every single car on the lot to find her. She nearly threw the jar's lid in frustration.

"Miss, is there a reason for you to be out here? All the students are supposed to be on the field."

"I must have taken a wrong turn," Tabitha seethed, then stalked her way back to all the nitwits watching the firetrucks.

The policeman let her go.

_At least I still have the lid, for all the good it'll do me. Maybe we can use it as an ashtray or something..._

Not long afterwards, a pair of firemen conducting a floor to floor search of the school heard someone yelling down in the basement. They managed to trace it to an old locker and pried it open with a fire ax.

"_Danke_. I was beginning to think nobody would find me."


	5. Part Five

Author's Note:

This fanfic is in response to a challenge the InterNutter has on her web page. (Go to http://cat.devil.com for details. I believe it's on her "miscellaneous" page. Check out her other stuff while you're at it, too. She's got a lot of neat stuff.) While this story may not what she had in mind, I hope she enjoys it.

Please review and give me _useful_ feedback. You don't flame me, I don't flame you. (And believe me, I can get _very_ creative...) This story is still open to massive re-writes. I'm having issues with the fact that it seems so _contrived..._

Standard disclaimer: I don't own the X-men and I'm not making a dime (or even a nickel) off this story.

Radical Nike

Part Five

Peculiar occurrences were the norm at the Xavier Institute, but sometimes _peculiar_ just wasn't a strong enough word.

Professor Charles Xavier was uncertain if there _was_ a term accurate enough to describe the current situation.

Best just to file it under "Wagner, Kurt," and simply let it lie.

There was a cookie jar without a lid sitting on the table before him. The furry elf himself was crouching in a chair nearby.

His older students, along with Rahne Sinclair, occupied various points of the room. Jean was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, nursing a headache from her earlier efforts. 

_Where to begin..._ Xavier thought. "Kurt, what can you tell me about this jar?"

Kurt looked at it and shuddered. "I have _no_ idea where it came from, Professor. All I know is that someone left it where I would come across it." He pointed one of his digits at the surface, where a decorative border coiled, not actually touching it. "This odd mark is an old Romany script. (1) They're the words to a spell. The first part of the spell is meant to hold a person inside indefinitely. The second is a bit more malignant. Whoever holds the container can command the person bound to it to do whatever they desire. I cannot actually touch it. If I do, it forces me away."

Xavier kept his face composed. He could sense that Kurt genuinely believed what he was saying, but it was difficult to take the situation completely seriously. He picked up the jar and saw Kurt visibly flinch.

"Please don't make me chase my tail, Professor."

"I won't," he promised. "I would, however, like you to fall asleep."

Scott caught Kurt before he could topple to the floor. He set the boy onto one of the small sofas.

"That was freaky," Kitty stated, her blue eyes wide. "I didn't think that magic was, like, really real?"

Xavier traced the pattern with sensitive fingers. "These words do seem to have some kind of sentience to them, but from my understanding, they do not have power in and of themselves. The intent of the person who made this...vessel...is what is actually feeding the spell."

He noticed several of his students' jaws drop. Scott quickly regained his poise. "I'm sorry, sir, but it was just a shock to hear you taking this spell business seriously."

"I understand, Scott. Mysticism, sorcery, magic... these are all things most people dismiss. I often have to remind myself that I need to keep my mind open to _all_ possibilities. My own brother, the Juggernaut, is proof of what such powers can accomplish." He tapped the jar. "Kurt, please wake up."

Kurt started awake and rubbed his eyes. "_Vas..._"

"I apologize, Kurt, but I needed to see exactly how the compulsion worked."

"Oh."

Just then, Ororo Munroe gracefully entered the room. "I apologize for interrupting, Charles, but I've finished talking with the police."

"I trust they accepted Kurt's statement?" The Professor had determined that the best way to handle the officials was to pretend that Kurt was simply the victim of a cruel prank and had no idea who had carried him off.

"You _know_ they did, Charles," Ororo said, mildly reproving. "They seem to be more interested in who detonated that smoke bomb than anything else."

"Good work." He returned his attention back to his students. "You may have to deal with some unkind remarks for a week or so, Kurt."

The blue teen made a face, but he didn't comment. "I just want to concentrate on breaking that spell. I never really considered a future as a genie when I grew up."

"Ah, yes. I'm not sure what destroying the container will do." Xavier turned his attention to Rahne. "I think the person who made the jar would know how to do it. Rahne, I trust you still remember the scent of the boy who tried to run off with this jar?"

"Oh, aye, Professor. Jean got a look at the wastrel from my mind's eye." The mutant werewolf seemed slightly nervous to be included in the conversation, so Xavier sent a tiny thread of comfort towards her. She relaxed slightly.

"Jean?"

She groaned from her seat. "His name is Patrick Rumsfield. He tends to stay at the fringe of crowds, Professor. I don't know much about him."

"_I_ do," Rogue snorted. "He calls himself 'Sylvan' and fancies himself some kind of magician. He's always goin' on about sorcery and demons and dark powers. I never took 'im seriously, but I guess he might have had something going, after all." She squinched her eyes shut for a moment. "He an' his girlfriend, Rhave—"

"Rhave?" Evan interrupted.

"Uh, her name's really Stephanie Crow. Anyhow—"

"What is it with you goths and funky names, anyway?" Evan mumbled.

"Shut up, _Spyke,_" Rogue growled. The rambunctious skater flushed and quieted. "Anyhow, Sylvan an' Rhave have been actin' pretty interested in the Bayville Demon lately."

"_Wunderbar_," Kurt grumbled. "An amateur spellcaster wanted to make me his demonic familiar. I can't _believe_ this." He jumped up and began to pace irritably. "He should be lucky I'm really _not_ a demon..."

"So what are we going to do about him?" Kitty asked. "He totally freaked when he saw me and Rahne phase through the wall."

Xavier thought a moment. "Another concern. We have no idea if he recognized the two of you."

"Ah dinnae think that he saw much, Professor. I was a wolf at the time and the boy had already taken ta his heels by the time we were both completely in the room." She sniffed, obviously not impressed.

"No matter." Xavier turned to Rogue. "I think you should invite Mr. Rumsfield to visit. Miss Crow, also, if you feel she would also be involved."

"Wouldn't be surprised. They're stuck tagether like glue..."

Kurt cleared his throat. He was staring at the cookie jar. "Uh, Professor, where's the lid?"

Kitty coughed. "Uh, I think the Brotherhood still has it..."

Sylvan collapsed into a small heap on his bed as soon as he got home.

The jar was gone.

He didn't even know if the spell had actually caught the Bayville Demon or not. It was _gone_.

He would never know.

He had had so much _faith_ that the spell would really work, too.

Someone, somewhere, had his demon.

A loud knock on his door jolted him out of his sulk. "Patrick, there's a girl on the phone for you."

Sylvan bit back the urge to correct his mother about his name, but then the rest of her sentence sunk in. _What girl? She would've called Rhave by her name..._

He cracked the door to permit his mother the view of a singular eye. "Who called?"

"She said her name was Rogue."

He pushed past her into the hall and reached for the phone. "What does _she_ want?" Whatever it was, at least he could take his mind off that stupid cookie jar.

"Rogue? What's up?"

_"Do ya know anythin' about a cookie jar with a fuzzy blue devil inside it?"_

The sun was just starting to set. Near the Bayville Boardinghouse, four X-men quickly laid their plans.

"Jean, do they have the lid?"

The statuesque redhead nodded. "Tabitha tossed it in the corner of the front hall when she returned from school. She's currently in her room."

"Is anyone else around? I don't see Alvers' jeep."

"The Blob is in the back of the house. I think he's watching TV. I can't detect anyone else."

Cyclops turned to Shadowcat. "Easy in, easy out. Nothing fancy."

"Like, no prob. Just be ready to book when I'm outta there, okay?"

Shadowcat crept off.

Spyke began to fidget. "I _hate_ being the back-up, man. It's _boring_, y' know?"

Jean made a disapproving noise. "We're not here for a fight, Evan." She turned a sharp look to the house.

"Problem?" Cyclops asked.

"No. Tabitha was about to leave her room and I implanted the feeling that she forgot to do something in her room." She watched the house for another long moment. "Kitty got the lid. Start the van up."

Shadowcat came running across the dead grass and climbed into the car breathlessly. "Let's get _OUT_ of here!"

Cyclops stepped on the gas. "Did you get caught?"

"No," the petite girl shuddered. "That has got to be the nastiest piece of architecture, like, on the entire _planet_." She hugged the piece of ceramic tightly. "They're worse pigs than _Evan._"

"Hey!"

Sylvan parked the sedan right in front of the main entrance.

"I can't believe that we went through all that trouble this afternoon for you to lose the damn thing as soon as you managed to retrieve it..."

"Shut up, Rhave..."

Rogue was standing in the doorway before they had finished climbing the steps. "Follow me, guys." She glanced into the building. "We're just gonna pass through the house real quick. I hid it outside so no one would find it."

The duo barely had enough time to take in the interior as Rogue led them towards the kitchen.

"Hello, Rogue," a lovely black woman with white hair greeted. She was putting dishes away. "Are these the members of your little 'study' group?" From the look on her face, she didn't seem to think they were going to be studying much of anything.

"Uh, yeah. This is Sylvan an' Rhave. Sorry, Ms. Munroe, but we really gotta go. Study, I mean."

"Of _course_..."

They exited into an elegant garden. "Sorry about that. Ms. Munroe keeps a sharp watch on us."

"As long as she doesn't interfere with our business," Rhave hissed.

Rogue gave her a startled look. "Hey, I don't want to start trouble. I just want this thing to go away..."

She had led them to a small green house. Carefully, she pushed open the door and went directly to a workbench covered with dust and assorted knickknacks. "We don't use this place too much except for storage. Figured that it would be overlooked."

Sylvan's heart leapt within his chest at the sight of the cookie jar. Then he noticed the tail.

There was a sinuous blue tail hanging over the side of the jar. It was caught in the lid, which apparently had come loose. The tail was twitching furiously and the jar was shaking violently.

"Whoa." Rogue looked scared. "Been busy, I see. How the Hell did he manage _that_?"

Inside the jar, Kurt was testing his limits. The substitute lid had accidentally slid out of place and he found that he could actually move around inside a bit. There was a strange sense of expansion and contraction when he wasn't completely 'bottled.'

It kind of tickled.

He had poked his tail out, probing the outside of the jar. He found that he could actually touch the outer surface if the majority of his person was inside.

He heard a startled exclamation from outside.

_That's my cue._

Not even a second had passed after Rogue thoughtlessly spoke. Sylvan watched in horror as the cookie jar's lid blew off the top and a dark shadow blasted out of it.

It landed with a _ka-thump_ on his chest, knocking him to the ground. Rhave shrieked and cowered away.

"Grab the jar! Grab the jar!" he yelled as the thing sat on top of him. He could feel its tail coiling suggestively around his neck.

_God-its-eyes-were-GLOWING_—

Rhave gibbered in the corner.

"Knock it off. You wanted ta scare 'em, and you've scared 'em good. Now let 'im loose."

Sylvan resumed breathing as the demon released him and leapt on top of a stack of boxes. He moved as a mass of shadows, only his eyes visible in the dark greenhouse.

Rhave stared at Rogue. "You—You're not holding the jar!"

Rogue snorted. "'Course not. That'd be insultin'." She kept her body interposed between them and the jar. "I'd like ta introduce you ta my brother."

Sylvan about died on the spot. "Your—brother—?"

"You have a _hearing_ problem, _Patrick?_" she said dangerously. "Yes, my _brother_. He's an incubus and I'm—" Rogue stepped closer. Sylvan fumbled backwards towards the door. "—a _succubus_. And I want him set free of that silly little cookie jar..."

She was taking her gloves off. Her hands seemed to glow like white brands in the dim light.

"And either you tell me willingly," she whispered softly in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. She touched his leather collar gently with the tip of finger and he could feel a cold sweat break out all over his body. "Or I'll steal the knowledge right out of your _soul_..."

Rhave began screaming hysterically when the demon began to laugh.

Very early the next morning, Father David Fitzgerald was quite bemused when an odd couple knocked on his rectory door. They had a dog with them.

"Can I help you?"

"Um, sorry to disturb you, Father, but my name's Patrick and this is my friend Stephanie. We were wondering if you could do us a favor..."

Father David took his eyes off the improbable number of piercings the girl had in her face and focused his attention on the bag the boy was holding.

"We were wondering if you'd bless this cookie jar with holy water for us..."

Was that dog a wolf?

Later, at the Institute, Kurt was picking at his breakfast. Rogue was sitting directly across from him. Every once in a while, one of the two would burst into giggles, which inevitably set the other off.

Scott just shook his head. "You would think they'd be worried about Sylvan and Rhave talking."

Jean tossed her hair back and took a sip of her orange juice. "The Professor said that he'd take care of it."

"I'll bet Rogue's disappointed that her little 'succubus' shtick won't be remembered," Kitty groused. "I think she _enjoys_ freaking people out."

Evan swallowed. "Hey, everybody needs a hobby."

At the other end of the table, Kurt and Rogue dissolved into laughter.

Inside the kitchen, Ororo carefully loaded her freshly baked cookies into the Institute's newest cookie jar.

-------

Author's Note:

(1) Kurt was adopted and raised by gypsies, who are also referred to as Romany.

Well, that's it. Please let me know what you think. Any suggestions for improvement are always appreciated!


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